


Old and New; Borrowed and Blue

by piperholmes



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Anne is full of romance, F/M, Family Heirlooms, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, The Night Before The Wedding, Wedding, gilbert is emotional, marilla reveals some truth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22529182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piperholmes/pseuds/piperholmes
Summary: Anne only knows that she loves her blue ribbon because it came from Marilla, but on the eve of her wedding Marilla reveals the history behind the token.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 31
Kudos: 222





	Old and New; Borrowed and Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This was born from a post on twitter @abelunsolved posted a photo of Gilbert and Anne from Bash and Mary’s wedding and I realized Anne was wearing the blue ribbon-a gift from John. @rparanal1 pointed out that neither Anne nor Gilbert knew the meaning behind the ribbon which got me thinking and this story was born! So a special shoutout and thank you to both these awesome people!!!
> 
> This is sooooooo sentimental and I’m sorry but our girl Anne teaches that being sentimental isn’t wholly a terrible thing.
> 
> Unbeta’d

Diana and Marilla were an unlikely pair. Separated by a lifetime of memories, their position in the world, lineage, and expectations. And yet this unexpected duo were brought together by their love for a girl. Yes, Diana and Marilla had found common ground as they both desired and worked for the happiness of their darling Anne. So it was no surprise that these two women were ablaze with finalizing the last of the details for Anne’s wedding.

It had been a flurry of activity for the last few months. Rachel, Hazel, Diana, and Marilla had spent the summer rallying together, planning, plotting, creating, and crafting, until, on the eve of the blessed day, the final wreath had been set, pies and cakes laid out to cool, and the finishing touches added to Anne’s dress.

“Something old?” Diana asked as the last of the day slipped behind the horizon, a gentle chill prompting Marilla to close the window of Anne’s room against the temperate Septembernight. 

It was Anne’s last night in her room at Green Gables.

Marilla’s fingers lingered against the window pane, a fleeting reflection of a skinny, waif-like Anne admiring the Snow Queen danced across her memory. She felt the lump in her throat find purchase once again as her heart fought with the reality that her Anne was leaving home for the last time.

She cleared her throat forcefully, before turning to look to the now grown woman before her. A woman filled with life and excitement.

“Check!” Anne squealed holding up the veil she would be wearing, the mended tear now hidden behind the delicate stitching and embroidering Rachel Lynde had been kind enough to provide. Marilla gave a watery smile as she saw Anne dancing about in the same veil her mother had worn, dancing about just as she had all those years ago when a wedding had seemed no more to the little girl than a far off, unattainable fantasy.

“Something new?” Diane asked, proceeding through the list. 

Anne held up her wrist, her newest charm—an apple gifted to her by Matthew, who’d (quite obviously pleased with himself) happily pointed out that an apple could represent both a doctor and a teacher and therefore the perfect emblem for Anne and Gilbert’s union—glittered in the candlelight.

“Check.”

“Alright, and, of course, something borrowed,” Diana said, handing Anne Aunt Josephine’s simple pearl earrings, earrings that had been left to Diana. 

“Oh Diana,” Anne breathed, tears filling here eyes. “To know I’ll be wearing these, the same earrings worn by my darling bosom friend and to feel Aunt Jo’s spirit with us, to know she and Gerty will be looking down on us is the most exultantly joyful thought.”

The two childhood friends hugged and giggled, the type of excited, happy giggle that could not be contained. 

“And finally,” Diana said, pulling away, “something blue.”

Anne ran towards her chest at the end of her bed, kneeling down to lift the lid and rummage about until emerging triumphant. 

“Something blue!” She cried delighted, looking towards Marilla, the long, satiny ribbon dangling from her fingers. “Will you tie this into my hair tomorrow Marilla?”

The older woman’s lips pressed together, a stoic, simple sign of her attempt to keep ahold on her emotions.

_ “Perhaps this might persuade you to offer me a morsel of kindness?” _

The memory teased about her head as Anne moved to stand in front of her, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. 

“This was the first gift I was ever given, or at least the first gift I can remember ever getting. Well, you and Matthew were the greatest gift of all, of course, but when you gave me this ribbon, Marilla, I had never before been bestowed a more treasured possession.”

Marilla reached out, her fingers hovering just above the fabric. She could see his dark eyes and still smell the fresh pine scent of his cologne. 

_ “Show me mercy, Mar!” _

His laughter echoed in her ear, so light and pleasing...so full of love. 

“Anne,” Marilla spoke softly, “will you allow me to tell you about this ribbon?”

Anne’s brow lowered at the sudden seriousness of her tone. She and Diana exchanged a look before the latter, sensing a shift in the air, excused herself to go check on the final details with the bouquets. 

Marilla moved to sit on the bed, motioning for Anne to turn once she’d settled next to her adopted mother, allowing Marilla to take Anne’s thick, wild hair into her work worn nimble fingers, separating the strands as she began folding the sections over each other into a clean, neat plait.

“I would be honored to see this ribbon in your hair tomorrow as you marry Gilbert Blythe,” she began, her voice now strong and clear. “I am glad you value this ribbon as much as I.”

She took the beloved strip of fabric and tied off the braid, her touch lingering before gently turning Anne to face her.

“You see, Anne, this ribbon was a gift to me from someone I cared for very deeply and who...” she hesitated. “Well, someone who cared for me.”

Anne nodded, though she was still unsure the importance behind Marilla’s words. 

“That someone was Gilbert’s father, John.”

At her revelation Anne felt a shiver of understanding blossom and move through her. Her breath caught as she shifted the braid over her shoulder, bringing the ribbon into view.

“His father?” She breathed. A quiet filled the room as the two women shared a moment of understanding. Anne had only met John Blythe a handful of times when dropping off Gilbert’s schoolwork. She’d been so angry with Mr. Phillip’s insistence she be the one to take him the work, feeling he was rubbing in Gilbert’s academic worth to him. She allowed a small smile to spread as she thought about that time, how even then her feelings for Gilbert were strong and passionate, even if not yet romantic. But Mr. Blythe had been so welcoming those few times he’d been out of bed when she’d come everyday after school, and on that very first day he’d complimented her hair—a rarity that had led Anne to believe he was the kindest of men and a possible kindred spirit. But he had left this world before Anne could have known how important he would be to her life and now his ribbon would be in her “wonderful red hair” as she married his son. 

“Oh Marilla,” Anne cried, tears filling her eyes. “To be wearing such a momentous token of love on a day that officially unites our two families is such an overwhelming delight.”

“I will be so proud to see you wearing this tomorrow and I know John would be pleased...” Marilla paused, the lingering sense of loss and regret finally fading away as she allowed a contented happiness to find purchase. 

Life had a funny way of working out.

Diana soon returned, Marilla and Anne still holding tightly to each other, joy and contentment and loss mingling together in perfect harmony. There was a bride at Green Gables and much to celebrate. There seemed to be nothing left to do so the three women had sat and shared memories and laughter until eyes became heavy and the words slowed.

Marilla and Diana were able to slip off easy enough, but for an overly excited Anne, sleep remained allusive. She was nearly bursting to tell Gilbert about the ribbon, to share its originwith him so that he might look upon her tomorrow and know that his father was there too. She had a devoted love and affection for the ribbon because it had come from Marilla. She had felt like a daughter for the first time in her life when Marilla had tied it about her braids. But now, to know the ribbon had been a token of love from the father of the man she was privileged to love and soon call husband to the mother of her heart was more romantical than even Anne’s imagination could conjure. 

There were still several hours left before dawn’s light would christen the new day, and Anne knew there would be no relief to the wildness within her if she remained in bed. She slid from beneath the warm covers and pulled on a pair of wool stockings before tiptoeing down to the kitchen where she tugged on her boots and heavy coat. The nights had grown significantly cooler than the days but it was a crisp, clean type of chill that seeped into Anne’s skin and brought to life the pink of her cheeks. The autumn moon shown brilliantly against the inky black sky, allowing Anne to slip out the door without the need of a light. She knew the path well and even in the dark of night she felt safe and excited. She reveled in the sound of the leaves crunching beneath her feet, the gentle embroidery of frost that clung to their edges a beautiful, shimmering guide along her way. 

In the quiet stillness, she could just make out the faint echoes of the loneliness that had once been a very part of her soul. In the shadows, she could almost see the silhouette of her orphan self, clutching the broken old handbag that had held all her worldly possessions—all that she had to prove to the world that she had existed. That small, starved girl had convinced herself she was ugly and unlovable because that had made it easier for her broken heart to keep going, to keep beating, to keep surviving. 

She could only offer that desperate child a knowing, meaningful smile that promised a future that needed no imagination to craft because it was real. It was in every touch, every laugh, every meal, every stitch of clothing, every heartfelt “I’m sorry,” every merciful “I forgive you,” and every tender “I love you.” She had a family, and soon, her family would grow and grow and grow, a garden of affection and devotion that she would tend and nurture and bask in for the rest of her life.

She stood for a moment in the moonlight, the pale light shining on the material of the ribbon, and sent a silent “thank you” heavenward, a thank you meant for a man she’d hardly known but saw everyday in the eye’s of his son. 

She felt an overwhelming delight erupt within her and, with an exhilarating laugh, began to run, her red hair and the ribbon flying behind her. She left behind the shadows, her blood now pumping as her legs carried her to the familiar homestead. 

She could no longer feel the cold.

She slowed as she made her way to the door, her breath coming fast and hard in white, fluffy puffs. In the quiet, her breathing sounded a veritable canon, her heart pounding in her ears, but as she silently made her way into the home there was no one to meet her, no hustling or bustling about to suggest she’d awoken anyone. She slipped off her boots and moved slowly and carefully, each unexpected creak of the wood beneath her feet causing her to pause and listen until she was sure she was safe to keep going. 

When she finally found herself outside his door She knew he was waiting for her. There was no light to meet her, but as she made her way into his room she heard her name softly called.

“Gilbert,” she answered him in a whisper. “I can’t see you.”

She couldn’t help the silly giggle that escaped, glad she’d already shut the door. She heard him move from the bed, no hint of sleep in his movement or voice. 

“What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” He questioned, keeping his voice low as he reached for her, his hands pulling her to him. She welcomed the warmth of his body, breathing in the smokey, clean scent off him as he wrapped his arms about her.

“I had to see you. I had to show you something.”

There was a pause before Gilbert cleared his throat. “I think that’s meant for tomorrow night Anne-girl.”

She could hear the teasing and knew the smirk on his face. She was glad of the dark because her wind-pinked cheeks were turning red even as a thrill of anticipation swept through her. 

“Not  _that_ ,” she insisted, even as she snuggle against him. “Oh can’t you open a curtain or something? I’ve come all this way.”

“Yes you have, which I have to say is most foolish. I can feel how cold you are. Here,” he said, guiding her to his bed, a gentle pressure on her shoulder prompting her to sit before he wrapped a blanket about her. “Just a moment.”

He moved about the bedroom and then Anne heard the scrape of a match and watched as the candle caught the flame, a small, orange glow allowing enough light that she could see his face—his handsome, familiar face. 

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding?” Gilbert whispered, setting the candle by his bed before sitting down beside her, a goofy, pleased grin on his face.

Anne rolled her eyes. “We’ve survived bad luck before.”

At her words, Gilbert’s smile grew a bit sad. “You’re right.”

His hand moved to hers, fishing it out from beneath the blanket, his fingers winding with hers. “Now, tell me why you’re here in the middle of the night. And it better be good. If anyone finds out about this my reputation will be ruined.”

Anne laughed, her free hand coming to cover her mouth. 

She did love this man. 

“You don’t seem all that surprised to see me,” she pointed out. “And why weren’t you asleep? Tomorrow’s a big day.”

“The biggest,” he agreed with a wink. “And I’ve learned to expect the unexpected when it comes to you, future wife.”

Anne felt a thrill run through her. “Oh Gilbert. Tomorrow I will be your wife.”

“Today actually. In just a few hours. And I’ll be your husband.”

The pair grinned at each other before Gilbert leaned into her unable to resist the temptation a moment longer, pressing his lips against hers in a dance they had come to perfect over the years. She squealed with delight as his hands found their way under her coat, the thin fabric of the gown doing very little to protect her modesty. She soon found herself pressed back into the mattress, her leg sliding up the back of his thigh as he cover her body with his, warmth engulfing her, driving away the last of the chill. When his hands found their way into her hair, her own hands buried in his dark curls, she pulled back and shoved him rather unceremoniously away.

“Oh Gilbert, wait, I must tell you why I’ve come,” she panted, her lips swollen and red. 

He blinked at her, his hair a mess and breathing hard. “Yes....you must....” he finally said, shifting off her, but Anne caught him and tugged him closer so she could sit up but keep her legs about him.

“I came because I had to tell you about this.” She pulled her now completely disheveled braid over shoulder.

“You’re hair?” Gilbert asked, his brow lowering in confusion, still not fully recovered from their  passionate embrace. 

“No, the ribbon.”

He looked at it. It looked like the ribbon he’d seen her wear before. 

“It’s...pretty?” He tried.

Anne grinned. “It’s beautiful. Oh Gilbert,Marilla gave me this ribbon when I first came to Green Gables. It had been hers when she was younger and she gave it to me. She tied it in my hair herself the first time I wore it like a mother would for her daughter—it was the day I was to meet Diana I might add—so it carries a great deal of meaning and importance for me, and I will be wearing it in my hair tomorrow.”

Gilbert’s lips spread into a sweet smile. He may not understand why she was telling him this but he treasured the love and happiness in her eyes as she did so.

“But Gilbert,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his, her barely contained enthusiasm radiating from her. “Do you know who gave the ribbon to Marilla?”

His eyebrows drew together as he tried to imagine who would have given Ms. Cuthbert the ribbon and why it would be so important for Anne to come to him in the middle of the night, the night before their wedding, to tell him about it. 

“I....don’t,” he said slowly.

“Your father,” she said softly. “It was a gift from your father to Marilla.”

Gilbert’s brow knitted together as he took in her meaning. “My...father?”

“John Blythe,” Anne confirmed. “Marilla told me tonight. She said they cared about each other and he’d given it to her.”

Gilbert’s hand moved to the ribbon wrapped around her hair, his finger tips lightly skimming the soft, silky fabric. 

“She’s kept it all these years,” Anne explained. “And gave it to me. And I will give it to my daughter one day...our daughter Gilbert. She’ll have a something of her grandmother on my side and something of her grandfather on your side to treasure. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

Gilbert said nothing as he settled the end of her braid in the palm of his hand. “My father gave this to Marilla Cuthbert and she gave it to you.”

He seemed to be speaking to no one, his words released quietly and reverently. 

He could only stare at the small piece of fabric that carried such a big story. 

“Gilbert?”

When he finally looked up at her, his eyes were glassy and full, the candlelight diving in and out like waves, highlighting the myriad of color in his eyes. 

He let out a shaky breath. “Anne, I can’t—-“

He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. “I love the family I have created. I’m so grateful for them and all the love they’ve brought back into my life, but I’ve recently been...” his voice broke and he again had to stop. 

She said nothing, her hand coming to rest against his thigh, moving gently back and forth, a gesture of comfort and love, as he continued to hold her hair in his hand. 

“I just wish he could be there tomorrow,” he finally whispered, his voice losing strength as the emotions took hold. “I have been missing him a great deal and...I want him to know I’m happy but that I still miss him.”

“Oh Gil, he knows. Of course he knows.”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes. I—I’ve been longing, praying for something...some sign to know that he is still there, looking down...that he’s here in spirit...oh Anne, my darling, dear Anne, he has spoken to my heart because here you are, my very heart, come to tell me, to show me...you’ve brought me my father..”

He moved his free hand to press against his eyes as he fought to maintain control. 

Anne couldn’t handle his pain and shifted closer, pulling him into her arms, her whole body wrapped around his. They weren’t exactly going to the alter as innocents—they had found ways to further their relationship, ways that Rachel Lynde would find both scandalizing and relishing but that didn’t go so far as to risk the ultimate propriety. But Anne had never felt such an intimate moment as she cradled him now with her entire heart, soul, and body. 

Gilbert said nothing as he buried his face in her hair and clung to her. A sense of peace pervaded that tiny room as family long separated and family newly forming met in that tender, eternal embrace. 

Anne didn’t realize she was crying until Gilbert had pulled back and gently wiped her cheek before pressing a kiss to the dampened skin. He then wordlessly pulled the ribbon from her hair, freeing her fiery tresses from their hold. By mutual, unspoken agreement, they both moved under the blanket, legs intertwined as they lay looking into each other’s eyes. 

Gilbert pressed a kiss to the ribbon before wrapping it once around her wrist. Anne leaned forward and kissed the ribbon as well then wrapped the remaining portion around his wrist. 

“My wife.”

“My husband.”

Tomorrow, just before dawn they would sneak from the house and walk together, hand in hand to watch the sunrise on their wedding day. Anne would get home to begin dressing and preparing. Bash would tease Gilbert about the dark circles under his eyes as they pinned flowers to their lapels. Marilla would be red-eyed and smiling as she pinned Anne’s hair, the blue ribbon carefully woven among the curls. Matthew would struggle to keep the tears from his eyes as he took his little girl’s arm to walk her down the aisle. Gilbert and Anne would share a look that no one could interpret but everyone would recognize: a look of utter love and devotion. And they would be married before friends and family and dance and celebrate the night away until Gilbert would carefully undress her, reverently removing those pieces that meant so much to them both and they would finally become one in body as well as in spirit. 

But before all that, in the quiet moment, alone and without fanfare, hands united and held together with a relic of old love and a promise of new love, hidden beneath the covers, by the fading light of a single candle, they completed their vow to one another and were wed. 


End file.
